


Faith in the Future

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Child Neglect, Gen, Mental Instability, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 09:14:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6323614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo is allot younger during his unexpected journey. Can a child really handle all that comes with being the company's burglar? HKM Prompt</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faith in the Future

"Good morning."

The greeting caused an immediate reaction, the young-looking hobbit coughing and looking surprisingly green as he dropped the pipe. Spinning around, he faced the wizard with alarm and guilt, trying and failing to hide the still smoking pipe or his smokey coughs. He much looked like a child who had been caught doing something naughty but his youthful appearance did not mean the hobbit was not full grown, Gandalf noted. After all, there was a certain sternness, an edge to this stranger that implied many hard years despite his childish visage. Said visage slowly smoothed to show only polite curiosity and friendliness, albeit some nervousness.

"Ah, yes, g-good morning, sir."

A sparkle of amusement appeared in Gandalf's eye as he neared the front gate of the small smial, admiring the massive garden. A hobbit's propensity for growing things was always a sight to see and he simply raised a brow at the stuttering squeak that addressed him; he noted the sign listed "Gamgee".

" I am looking for a Miss Belladonna Took, my dear hobbit. I had heard she was the owner of Bag End, yet a rather...upset hobbit answered the door instead."

To his surprise, a dark look passed over the blond hobbit's face. He dropped his head, shuffling a bit before he explained, " My mother passed, sir. I'm sorry to say the Sackville-Baggins are the owners of Bag End. "

Beyond the shock, a deep sadness settled over the wizard; his dear departed friend had always held a certain disdain for her more reserved relatives but he would not question inheritance. What really caught his attention was the word mother, and he finally had to acknowledge how much time had passed in the Shire. It felt like a blink to him but vaguely now he remembered a small toddling fauntling the last time he'd come to the Shire, nearly 35 years ago. He supposed Belladonna would in fact have a child old enough to be smoking pipes and entertaining wizards.

" Were you a friend of hers, sir?"

"I'd dare say I was. We shared many an adventure several decades ago and I had hoped..." Gandalf paused, at last taking a moment to analyze the tiny creature before him. He could see Belladonna in her son, that was for sure but there was a innocence, a nervousness that was unfamiliar, most likely a Baggins trait. All the same, it was that Tookish spark he was looking for and that he saw, atleast.

The hobbit suddenly seemed demure as he spoke, " You are...the wizard who brought fireworks?"

"My goodness. Indeed I am! I am perhaps more well known for my array of fireworks than anything else."

The hobbit nodded; his late brother had once shared this memory when their mother had started telling them of her wizard friend; he hadn't been born yet, when the wizard had paid them this visit. Looking sheepish (Hamfast had settled down for a nap and would skin him if he found him outside smoking and talking to odd folk), he abandoned the still burning pipe to approach where Gandalf loomed over the front gate, " Gandalf the Grey, if I am remembering my mother's tales. " There was a pause, twinkling eyes watching as Belladonna's son fumbled with his suspenders anxiously, " P-pleased to meet you, Master Gandalf. My mother spoke many good words about you."

Gandalf laughed, though he felt grief welling up within him with each passing moment, " I am sure she also had many a thing to say about my tardiness and, how did she phrase it, wizardly meddling?"

The hobbit flushed before Gandalf finally added gravely, " This world has suffered a great loss with her passing. I offer you and Master Bungo my condolences." After a long moment of silence, Gandalf finally dared to ask, " I'm afraid I've been away from the Shire too long and my retention of names is not what it once was, my good fellow-"

" Bilbo, Bilbo Baggins, Sir. And I regret to inform that my father has passed as well. Perhaps...perhaps I can help you with what ever has brought you back to the Shire?"

Gandalf smiled slowly, " Why, perhaps you can."

\---

Bilbo's smial, from what he saw from the garden gate, was far too small for thirteen dwarrow and a wizard. His original plan of inviting the company there was squashed before he even voiced it. For the most part, meeting in Bree worked out better than a meeting would have in the Shire as not only did they have space and food aplenty, but everyone was already there when Gandalf and the completely packed burglar arrived. Still, the meeting involved more convincing then they had anticipated.

" Laddie doesn't look old enough to be away from his amad!"

Before Bilbo could respond, his face a bright red in what Gandalf assumed was insult, he cut in above the dwarrow laughter, "Mr. Baggins is of age in the Shire, I assure you. And his skills make up for what he lacks in years."

Dori grumbled that he doubted it, several others agreeing with cackling laughs and deep gulps of ale. Bilbo didn't say a word so Gandalf continued to argue on his behalf, deflecting questions about the hobbit's skill with weapons or experience. After several hours, and several servings of ale and comfort food later, Thorin finally relented, partly after some prodding from his two young nephews, and of course Gandalf who stated clearly that he refused to find a replacement.

But as Bilbo surveyed the contract, Gandalf had a single moment of doubt. Perhaps 35 years old was still too young for a hobbit (the company had actually accused him of kidnapping a babe jokingly and un-jokingly when they had entered the inn). The blond hobbit's childlike mannerisms didn't help and worse, Bilbo had looked frightened the entire evening, trembling as he accepted the quill offered to him by Master Balin. It caused unease to swell within him; but who else was there if not Belladonna and if not her son? Finally, when the wizard heard the scritch scratch and watched as the signed contract was rolled back up, he dared to have faith.

\--  
Bilbo was terrified.

He was terrified of the dwarrow company, the way they loomed over him with scowls and weapons and stories of war, the way they just laughed when he jumped at the sounds of the wild things lurking in the dark night (far too many memories of the fell winter that claimed his father and brother rose up then). In general, everything felt like a danger to him and while he had his pony Myrtle and the wizard Gandalf to comfort him, the age gap between even the three youngest dwarves in the company created a disconnect. The more he braved the cold, overwhelmed by hungry-exhaustion as they traveled, the more often tears came to his eyes and whimpers threatened to erupt from his tight lips. How was he to keep up this charade when each day made him feel like running home and clinging to old Hamfast? How was he to survive this trip, let alone steal from a dragon? How was it that Gandalf was so confident in him that he'd lie about his age and his skill to the company? Why...why did Master Thorin and Master Dwalin sneer at him so?

He really had no place among the dwarves and worse, the farther they traveled, the more he realized about his place in the Shire...that he didn't have one. It wasn't like anyone would come looking for him. Yes, his older cousin Otho may be worried but he always agreed with his wife, Lobelia. After all, it had taken three weeks after he ran away before they, unconcerned, came across him living with the Gamgees. They were likely relieved and happy that they had shooed the last Took- Baggins from Bag End. And really, Bilbo wasn't too upset either. Elderly Hamfast gave him great freedom, more freedom than any other juvenile hobbit was every really allowed. He was sure the retired farmer cared for him, liked the company but he wouldn't, couldn't track him down. So Bilbo didn't have a home to run home to, as Thorin cruelly suggested; eventually...eventually he'd be forgotten in the Shire.

The first sob escaped him and he tried to conceal the rest, shoulders shaking as tears streamed down his dirt stained cheeks. The company was luckily asleep, he noted but his thoughts had no choice but to run away from him as he sat terrified in the dark. He hated the dark, and the owls, and the wind rustling the foliage and making him think there was a predator (or worse, the orcs the princes said were lurking). And he was cold, his gut rumbling as it had yet to get used to rations in the four days he had been on the road. He wasn't sure he could take anymore of this, he thought when another whimper escaped his lips...then a hand began to comb through his hair. He jerked, squinting in the dim light as the axe-head dwarf --Bifur, settled down beside him. He had forgotten the dwarf was taking first watch and of course he had heard Bilbo acting like a newborn fauntling, instead of the youngling that he was. he tried to straighten up but as he was petted and cooed to in what was clearly not Westron, he couldn't help but cry more freely at the first affection he had received since, since...well, his mother.

Bifur didn't seem to mind either, and was surprisingly gentle. He continued to pet Bilbo even after he calmed. Eventually, the hobbit fell asleep and Bifur, eyes sharp, felt he had no choice. When it was time to switch shifts, he woke his cousin up with a sharp kick. Bofur groaned, sitting up slowly before he was suddenly addressed in growling Khuzdul,

<< "Too young to be amongst the likes of us, let alone this hare-brained quest.">>  
  
Bofur yawned, " Ay, he looks it but you heard the wizard. He's of age. "  
  
<< "No, " >> The toymaker huffed, digging around in his coats until he pulled out a small carving of a dragon with wheels for feet. He placed it gently on top of Bilbo's satchel, looking softly at the sleeping hobbit before turning back to his cousin with a scowl, <<" The wizard. Is wrong.">>

\---

"C-can I help you cook, Mister Bombur?"

The oversized dwarf turned, blinking at the little hobbit staring up at him with wide eyes. He looked between Bilbo, whose hands were full of mushrooms and tubers, and the steaming pot he was in the midst of stirring. It was a pleasant surprise really since their 14th company member had acted afraid of his own shadow for the first days (Bombur didn't judge; he himself was quite shy) but now, likely due to the help of his brother and cousin, the little fellow seemed to be warming up to them. Smiling widely, he bid him closer and watched as their burglar's shoulders relaxed just a bit.

"Should hearten the broth well. Good on you, lad. "

Bilbo looked sheepish as he used his shirt front to brush at the dirt remaining on his edible findings, "Mister Hamfast taught me. He...he took care of me in the Shire and taught me about finding things to eat."

Seeming to dim at the reminder of his home left behind, there was a brief pause. Bombur nodded, struggling to keep the conversation going (he couldn't really ask what he wanted to ask, like why Bilbo had not been in the care of his parents) when he noticed a familiar figurine sticking out of the front pocket of the hobbit's coat, " A good thing to know, indeed. And what's that you got there? From Bifur?"

The sadness disappeared, replaced by youthful excitement as Bilbo nearly dropped all of his scavenges as he struggled to pull out the toy, and then another from inside his weskit. Of course Bombur had seen both of them before, but hearing such gratitude and wonder in the young hobbit's voice...the joy was catching and he couldn't help but nod appreciatively as fine details were discussed and stories were composed for the dragon and the dwarf warrior. It made him miss his own brood back in the Blue Mountains something fierce, his oldest boy very similar to Bilbo in this moment but he was also just happy to see the weariness of their travels disappear from Bilbo's face. Still, it made him feel the tiniest bit sick, knowing Bifur's suspicious were right.

They'd hired themselves a child burglar.

\----

Nori stared. And for the hell of it, he stared some more as he resisted the urge to check his front left pocket. Narrowing his eyes at the hobbit as a smile made its way on his face, he didn't get the chance to speak.

"You dropped this, Mister Nori."

The thief hummed as the silver coin was placed in his palm, " Did I, little burglar? Thank you for returning it to me."

Bilbo nodded, fidgeting under the dwarf's assessing gaze until a growl drew his attention. Dori was glaring at them from where his pony was carefully trotting along, Ori peeking around him as he gripped the reins of his own pony. After dismounting briefly to pull on a shiny piece from the mud, Bilbo had steered Myrtle forward until he had been right beside Nori, who usually rode alone. It was unusual on more than one account since Bilbo often stayed alongside Bofur, Bifur (who was having a bad day and therefore riding with Oin) or Gandalf.

" Are you bothering him?"

Bilbo flushed, eyes watering at the reproachful tone; he hadn't meant to bother Mister Nori- He blinked when Nori groaned and snapped as if the comment was directed at him instead, " I'm simply thanking him, brother. He's a very honest halfling and has returned to me my lost silver."

Dori didn't look convinced, eyes finally focusing on Bilbo, " My dear boy, I recommend you not bother with such ill-mannered company. You might pick up some of his habits, like the one that earned him that silver."

Nori sputtered, slowing his pony so he could ride beside the scowling Dori if only to yell into his face. None of the company seemed bothered by it all though it did make Bilbo feel a little nervous. Luckily, a distraction came as Ori took this chance to shyly make his way over, " S-sorry for my brothers. That was very nice of you, to return the coin."

"It's the respectable thing to do, " Bilbo said with a tiny bit of pride, pausing before he shared, " Once, when my older brother was very small, he snuck a seedcake off a merchant's stall. My father finally spied the little crumbles on him, you see, and why, he marched right back to the market with Dongo and paid for it, plus a tip!"

Ori smiled then asked, " But um, I thought you had no family at home?"

Bilbo deflated like a balloon, biting his lip as he tried to explain, " There...was an incident during the Fell Winter, when wolves came over the Brandybuck. My brother was killed trying to fight them off. My father...later passed from a cold he came down with around that same time and my mother faded with him. I-I have some cousins but they never really liked me so I refused to stay with them," Bilbo tried to make a joke but it only seemed to make Ori look more upset, "I slept in the soft grass near the frog pond for two days before Old Hamfast lured me in with the most delicious apple tart!"

" An older brother, " Gandalf's voice startled them both and something in the wizard's eye was sharp.

Bilbo nodded shyly after a long moment though he got the impression that the wizard would not be speaking again, as he looked so lost in thought, " He's the one who told me all about your fireworks, since you never visited for Yule or Midyear festival after that."

No response came, silence making Nori and Dori's argument all the more loud and Thorin and Balin's hushed conversation near the front of their caravan all the more suspicious. Bilbo couldn't help but feel he had once again proved his incompetence, back to square one where he was suddenly even more an unwanted outsider. Looking down at his hands, his knuckles white and fingertips bluish from the cold evening air, he was pulled from his deprecating thoughts by a small voice to his left.

"Bilbo..." Ori forced an odd smile before he wiggled his gloved hands in the hobbit's face, " Dori has some yarn left, I'm certain. Would you be interested in mittens perchance? "

Nodding at the sudden change of topic, another awkward silence settled over them but somehow, it meant the world to him when Ori, though quiet until it was time to make camp, didn't move to ride next to his brothers.

\---

Bofur regretted his lighthearted mention of orcs, his guts churning with shame when he saw the look of pure horror the hobbit's face. Worse yet, Kili and Fili had taken the jib and run with it, which is likely what caused Bilbo's breakdown when Bifur was on watch. But he tried his best to make up for it, keeping on eye on the lad during his shift. To the dwarf's relief, he slept peacefully for those meager hours. Head swimming as he thought of what to do, he'd finally just woken Bombur for the last watch until dawn, explaining to him in hisses and hand gestures what their cousin suspected; there really wasn't much surprise between them, just...regret.

But this morning had gone well. They stuck close to Bilbo as they journeyed further into the mountains, talking about their lives, their professions, their families and such in the Blue Mountains. Bilbo soaked it all up with a smile and also briefly explained (and offered three disgusted dwarves) dandelion greens, as his scavenged snack for elevensies. Bombur slipped him the stale bread chunk from his own rations, if only to avoid seeing someone eat something so very green. Polishing off the bread fast, Bilbo was a good listener, polite and enthusiastic which allowed conversation to carry on until Thorin, his bad temper persisting, called them to a halt. Bombur started on dinner when the sun started to set, soon delivered more scavenged goods and stories as Bilbo and Bofur played with the gifted figurines. By the time they were settled for the night, with the knowledge that they would be leaving the beaten path as they entered Orc lands, the three dwarves couldn't take it anymore. They saw their chance when Bilbo led Gandalf off to where he had found some possibly edible berries.

Bifur was direct, shouting out in harsh Khuzdul and catching their leader (and Dwalin's) attention. Bofur and Bombur tried to be more...diplomatic but ended up just chattering over one another. It wasn't that they wanted to dump the hobbit in the next town- No, no! Certainly not- And it wasn't like Bilbo was a great nuisance. He was doing well for his age and his experience level- Of course, very well! Just coming out of his shell, mind ye. And they had come to understand that there really wasn't anything waiting for the lad in the Shire- From what we've heard, orcs are preferable to those Sacksville-Bagginses- The point being, Thorin, that- Yes, our point is just that we reckon-

"Get on with it now! The point is?"

"We've ourselves a child burglar, " Nori announced from the other side of the camp, strolling forward and gaining the attention of the rest of the camp, " The unspoken truth, eh?"

Bofur scowled, looking nervously at the edge of the woods where the subject of their conversation had disappeared, " We thinks he may be younger than he says. T-than Gandalf led us to believing. S'all."

"That's all?" Dori snapped, dropping his bedroll, " We can't be responsible for a child out 'ere. We can't be sending an innocent to face a dragon!"

"Oh dear, what has this wizard brought to us?" Balin wheezed as Oin mumbled about needing to find his ear-horn; why on earth were they yelling about radishes and murky waters?"

"What evidence do you have, besides the odd behavior of a demure, sheltered creature. He is of age in the Shire, Gandalf confirmed, and he seemed of able mind while signing our contract."

"Can a wee thing be'a sound mind? Mature mind?" Gloin interrupted Thorin, " My Gimli wanted to join us but a child's mind can't be let to make such 'cisions!"

Silence fell upon the group for a long moment, Ori staring wide eyed as Kili and Fili whispered between themselves. Dwalin looked just as frustrated at their leader who finally snarled, " We leave him behind. There is a human city, just out of our way. We can have his parents, or rangers, work to return him home. Nori will take his place-"

"W-we can't just leave him! It's not safe. Either, he's no kin the Shire. We're closer to kin than the lot there!"

"Silence. This is no time to be playing babysitter! Not on a mission such as this, with a goal as important as this. Do we not have enough trouble with the dwarflings we have now?" Ori, Fili and Kili all began to argue but silenced themselves when Thorin raised a hand, " We can make due with thirteen and a wizard, though my confidence in the former..."

As if on cue, the last two members of the company returned with armfuls of berries and a few mushrooms. Bilbo looked so proud, but he soon froze in fear when he realized the company was staring at them with a mixture of expressions: Guilt, awe, anger, fear, confusion...the hobbit gulped, trembling when he noticed the pure hatred radiating off their leader. He had done something wrong. Was it the berries? Did...was he suppose to be helping unload the ponies? Maybe if he apologized-

"Tharkun. Tell us again the age of our burglar?"

Gandalf looked peeved, " What has got you lot in such a fuss? Concerning yourself with this again? Why he's 35, perhaps nearing 36. Which is of age for a hobbit."

The last part was said harshly when Dori gasped, Bofur stumbled and Balin let out an uncharacteristic curse at the low number by dwarven standards. Thorin's jaw had clenched then unclenched slightly though he still wasn't exactly pleased as he turned to face Bilbo, " Confirm this. Swear on the lives of the company that you will not risk our lives so that you may act upon some childish want for adventure. " the leader didn't stop even when Bilbo flinched, " That is what you are risking, halfling, all our lives if you are not skilled and dedicated enough for our quest. Perhaps that means nothing to a creature like you-"

"Thorin."

Dwalin's voice stopped him and Thorin felt an ounce of regret as a he watched the hobbit bite his lip in vain; while no sound reached their ears, tears still dribbled down Bilbo's chin to the forest floor. Turning away, the king in exile didn't wait for a reply because he knew it too now; he couldn't drop the hobbit off at the nearest town. He couldn't send him home, with so much travel already behind them. The child, for there was nothing else he could be, had to say with them until a better opportunity to send him back to safety arose. And that could very well mean death for them all.

The company is solemn the next day, upset and silent as Thorin pushes them as hard as possible. The tense atmosphere is burning holes in Bilbo, and so is knowing what he's done. His loneliness, his immaturity, his ineptitude was now a risk to the people he was slowly beginning to befriend. Sure, Gandalf was an accomplice but his father, the epitome of respectful Bagginsfolk, would be rolling in his grave at his pigheadedness.

They traveled long hours, only pausing once to admire the troll statues with moss and old bird nests littering the three forms. From there, they found the smelly cave of treasure, the discovery not nearly as cheerful as one would expect given dwarrow penchants for gold and weaponry. Bilbo accepted the offered sword, or letter opener as Kili and Fili called it with half hearted chuckles, but it mocked him. He didn't know how to use it, to defend himself. Even with this elvish blade he was a burden.

Suddenly, a hand came down on his shoulder, startling him. Luckily Myrtle didn't care that he jerked and apparently she hadn't needed him to direct her as he had just been staring off blankly into space, lost in thought for some time. Now aware, he looked around. From his left, Gloin gave a weak smile.

"Chin up, laddie. Burglar or not, you're here."

The dwarf slowly sped up until it was just him and Gandalf again, the old wizard shaking his head in silent upset at the cryptic words of encouragement (assuming that's what they were). A coward, Bilbo couldn't bring himself to ask where Gandalf's confidence in him came from or what could be done about the uncomfortable group dynamic. Instead, he stayed silent, tummy rumbling, as they headed into the setting sun.

 

\---

"Should you have strayed so far from your companions, little one?"

Bilbo turned sharply, looking up at the elf with a mix of surprise and shame; he wasn't sure if wandering off in someone else's home was really appropriate. (Not that he had much of a choice but to find somewhere else to be when the company had given him a cold shoulder, merely moments after shielding him from the elves as they rode in on great steeds, and before that when the Orcs chased them to the secret pass.) In fact, he was certain it wasn't and his father was likely rolling in his grave at such disrespect but his mother...his mother would have likely approved. It was absolutely beautiful in Rivendell and after a moment where he stumbled over his words, Bilbo admitted as much.

" Indeed, and quite safe for exploring in any case, " Elrond said with some amusement, " Though I must say, I was certain that hobbits were better suited for the comforts of home. Tell me, how did a company of dwarves whisk you away? And your parents? Are they adventurers as well?

Bilbo looked down at his feet, toes curling as the last rays of sunset warmed him, " Master Elf, I mean, Lord Elrond, y-you're correct about the disposition of hobbits and to be honest, I may have made a misjudgment when joining the company of thirteen dwarves." An eyebrow was raised in his direction and Bilbo was quick to answer the unspoken, " The wizard Gandalf came seeking my mother. She was quite adventurous, being a Took and all. And my brother as well, had an unusual confidence. But my father..." Bilbo straightened his spine, " He was a fine, respectable hobbit. Never the type to run off from the Shire. It's laughable really, a-a-a hobbit helping a band of dwarves."

"Hm, but hobbits are quite resilient too, are they not?"

Looking up in confusion at the elf, Bilbo didn't know what to make of these words. Had the brunet not just pointed out that hobbits belonged in the Shire? He frowned deeply, watching as Lord Elrond turned to go with nearly unnatural elegance; he called over his shoulder, perhaps only to confuse Bilbo further.

"Know that you are always welcome to end your adventuring here, little one."

\---

The more Gandalf and Elrond argued, the more hopeless the quest of retaking Erebor seemed, especially when for the hundredth time it seemed, Gandalf's judgment was called into question about him hiring a child burglar, let alone a hobbit. And for the first time, Gandalf didn't defend himself, just sighed deeply and with regret. In this moment, in the most magnificent place he'd ever been while he was the hungriest and most tired he'd ever been, he knew that it had been a mistake. He wanted so badly so believe it would work out, that he was worthy of Gandalf's faith and that he could prove Thorin wrong but he couldn't. He was just one, very little hobbit. What a fool he was. All of it had been a mistake- Bilbo yelped, spinning around in alarm when a gloved hand came down on his shoulder. Spinning around to face the solemn dwarf, Bilbo hoped the dim light hid his tears but he doubted it.

Instead of beginning another argument, Thorin just stared at him for a long moment, hand still hovering in the air after Bilbo's surprised flailing shook him off. Finally, with an aged sigh, their leader once more touched his shoulder, briefly, as he spoke in an uncharacteristically soft (resigned?) voice.

"That's enough wandering for tonight. Go rest with the others."

Bilbo hesitated for only a moment before he heard Bofur's worried voice calling out to him. He guessed they had forgiven him for his uselessness on the way here. Like a child, he ran to the other, nicer dwarf's side, feeling safer the moment the wide hat and mustache was in sight.

\---

There had been so many close calls.

Fili's hands still trembled thinking about if the hobbit hadn't heeded his yell, hadn't ducked at the right moment to avoid a likely poisoned arrow before hiding inside the rocky alcove with the dwarrows. And worse, what if an attack had come Kili's way and Fili had been busy shouting or protecting Bilbo? The heir to Erebor didn't want to think of such things and he wished selfishly that he could go back to only having to worry about Kili being reckless and childish. With Bilbo here, as much as his youthful wonder brightened the spirits of the company, it also worked against them. They were all constantly distracted and worried for their youngest member, and with so many backs to watch...it was alot to take on. Too much, really. Sure, they'd been lucky so far and the hobbit had minded them well despite his inexperience, but what would become of their burglar when their luck ran out? What were they to do when the stood before the gates of Erebor, possibly before a dragon?

Truly, leaving the hobbit was the rational decision; it'd been on their mind since before they'd entered the pass, making them the most solemn since the journey had started. They'd tried distancing themselves from Bilbo, knowing what would likely happen once they found safe haven somewhere; they all perhaps concluded it was for the best. And yet, they all protested, even Fili, now that Thorin voiced the intent to send their hobbit back to the Shire. It had been unnerving enough when the hobbit wandered off for the day, Thorin finding him later in the evening as the rest of the company raced around like headless chickens.

"He wants to keep the lad?"

Thorin grunted, eyes caught on the shadows surrounding their encampment. He would never feel secure in the halls of elves, and he almost sneered at how easily their group (other than his trusted adviser) joked and sang. Still, he couldn't begrudge them. They had needed the food and rest, and this would mean fewer mistakes as they continued to the Misty Mountain...but there was still one issue: Bilbo When Balin spoke again, still looking distressed, Thorin couldn't help but nod his agreement even as he argued in the next breath.

"We can't, not with them."

"It will only get worse from here. We were lucky no one was hurt when the Orcs caught up to us."

"But ya said it yerself, " Balin insisted, " There always be a motive behind an elf's act of good will. Now, this? Taking the lad, from the goodness of his heart? Doesn't sit well with me."

The king grit his teeth, " He can be escorted back to the Shire from here. Rangers can be contacted. The wizard has sway here-"

Balin finally fell silent, only to have his brother speak up in his place from where he lay curled up near the balcony. They had been offered rooms but preferred their encampment, preferred being together in one space; although, Thorin didn't exactly appreciate Dwalin entering their conversation.

"As much as he don't belong...don't like it, leavin' 'em with treeshaggers."

"I second that, " Nori announced from somewhere to the left, Dori grumbling in rare agreement, " What's another barrier to our success, anyway?

Bofur of course had to get his two cents in as well, speaking on behalf of Bifur whose grumbles in Khuzdul were too muffled for anyone else to decipher, " He ain't been a real burden, hasn't run off except for today. Why, with a bit'a training-" Seeing the disbelieving looks directed his way, the mustached dwarf huffed, " Anyway, how can we trust the wizard to get 'em home if he's the one who scooped him up in the first place? With us, at least he's looked after."

Kili piped up softly, " We could protect him. Train him, like Bofur said-"

"But we're on a mission, to kill a dragon, lads! We're sending him to his death!" Gloin offered a strong point, though even Oin looked torn.

"Doesn't B-Bilbo get a say?" Ori sputtered sharply, " M-mayhaps he signed the contract because of loneliness, " the company jerked at this, "i-instead of a want for 'venturin'. And if we leave him with them, if we send 'em away after all some of us have done tah make him feel welcome-"

The conversation was going to far now, the line between logical and cruel blurring as his kin spoke more and more. Leaving Bilbo in Rivendell had seemed so rational and now he could barely stomach it. But he had to do what was best; they all had to focus on the quest, not some little hobbit. At last, when their arguments started to get too loud, Thorin announced to the whole group (minus one hobbit who was rooming with their questionable wizard), " Silence, the lot of you. I will make the final decision, whether you approve or not."

Grumbles erupted but they could hear the finality of this statement; it was pointless when Thorin was like this. With no other choice, Fili and Kili settled back down to sleep. Nori inched closer to Ori who was tucked close to Dori, receiving no reproach. Even Thorin's eyelids soon began to dip and this is when Balin exchanged a small head nod with Dwalin; they both noticed that Thorin had not explicitly voiced what his decision was.

\----

"Have I made a mistake, little one, in inviting you on this journey?"

Bilbo blinked sleepily, having been dozing in the armchair in their room. The others had made camp close to where they had entered from the pass but Gandalf and he had been given a finely furnished room. Additionally, the elves demonstrated that they seemed to know a lot about hobbits since without asking they served them all supper and then made sure to bring Bilbo dinner after they retired for the night. Gandalf had nibbled with him, his expression still so distant and sad, even though Bilbo tried to keep the conversation mostly about the wondrous things he'd seen when he'd gotten lost. They'd eventually fallen into a light silence but now...Contemplating the question that hung between them, Bilbo wondered if the wizard had finally lost faith in him.

"What do you mean, Mister Gandalf?"

Sighing as he sat on the edge of a man sized bed, the elderly figure seemed so very upset that it frightened Bilbo a tad, " My dear boy, I fear that the journey from here will be too much for you. Had I known..."

"Known what?" Bilbo was sitting up, eyes wide in confusion at the clear pain in the others voice; when Gandalf didn't answer, he began to squirm until words just started tumbling out, " I can be better, Mister Gandalf! Please! I learn quickly. I can follow directions to a T. I-if you tell me how, I'll make certain the company isn't burdened with me-"

"Bilbo, child, " Gandalf choked out, " It...it is your safety I worry for and I know your presence has lifted the dwarrows' spirits remarkably. But if you were to stay in Rivendell-"

Bilbo's lip quivered, " So you've all been planning to leave me behind."

"Certainly not. We have not conspired, as you seem to think, as it only crossed our minds when-

"What has changed?" Bilbo cried, desperate, " D-did you not already warn me in Bree of the dangers I would encounter on the road? You had faith in me then, as early as outside Old Hamfast's smial. Why not now when we have made it safely thus far?"

"Oh, Bilbo. My confidence in you remains the same. I- " the wizard struggled and then seemed to surprise himself, eyes widening as he stared at the hobbit, " Yes. Indeed. You are right. I had much faith in you and I still do, very much so. Perhaps...I've simply let my worries run away with me."

"Mister Gandalf?"

"I apologize for my behavior. I will speak with Thorin and Elrond once more. The company would be lucky to have you should you choose to remain with us."

Bilbo stared, so very confused as Gandalf settled down on the bed with a blank expression but less tension in his lean limbs. The wizard even dared to chuckle, the pained air about him clearing as he said oddly, "Sometimes Fate is cruel, even to the innocent. But perhaps we must have faith, this once, that hardship will not come without great reward."

Bilbo, dry tears itching his cheeks, didn't understand and so he remained silent; even when he retired to the child-sized cot placed in the corner of the room nearest to the fire place, he lay awake long after his mother's old friend began to snore.

\----

Thorin almost says it. He almost gives the order to leave the hobbit behind but Kili is gripping said creature's small hand and seeing the tense expressions of the company along with Bilbo's wide and pleading blue eyes as they stand around in a half circle...he even knows they'll listen if he says Bilbo must stay in Rivendell. Given how timid Bilbo is, he likely won't even put up a fuss. Yet, the words are stuck behind his teeth and in the end, they're too rushed for further consideration or planning. The rangers haven't been contacted. Elrond hasn't been confronted about the reasons behind their offer. Gandalf had even hinted that it wouldn't be a good idea to leave the hobbit here, despite seeming fond of the elf. And Bilbo hadn't even been spoken to, had it explained to him that their decision was not out of malice. So Thorin really didn't have a choice, he thinks as he juts his chin in a clear order for all of them to move out.

"He could have been used against us if he stayed. Held hostage until we agreed to halt our quest, "Thorin grumbles when they've made camp a safe distance away; Dwalin snorts but Balin nods, as does the company that hasn't fallen asleep.

"Knew we couldn't trust them, " Fili hisses.

Dori hums as he continues to knit what looked to be hobbit sized gloves, " We'll need to be very careful from here on out. This may put us behind schedule, given we only have until Durin's day."

"The longer routes are safer, sure." Nori mumbles, fiddling with a sleeping Ori's hair, " But we can still do it, travel a bit longer on the safe roads and take some short cuts. "

"No short cuts, " Thorin mumbles, " We'll do fine but if he wanders off, if he begins acting recklessly-"

"There are towns we'll pass through, " Balin comments indulgently, though the group doesn't look as if they quite believe Thorin will follow through on his threat of leaving Bilbo behind. Behind his scowl, Thorin's not too confident he'll either.

\---

"He's been lost since he left the Shire."

Bilbo stares at Thorin's back with watering eyes, barely able to pick out the enraged dwarf in the dim light. Since they had left Rivendell, they had been constantly in motion, camping for scarcely eight hours before they were riding again. Everyone seemed grumpy and if Thorin had been impatient with Bilbo before...but the moment on the mountain, the rocks slick from rain as everything shook from the giant's battle; that was the worst moment so far. Bilbo had tried his best to keep up but he rode too slow, talked too much, got hungry and cold too easily, and now, nearly falling to his death and taking Bofur and Fili with him had been the straw that broke the camel's back.

"Now Thorin, it could've happened to any of us. The lad-"

The king bared his teeth, " Curse that blasted wizard. Do not argue with me, Balin. I should have left the hafling in Rivendell, in Bree, better yet! With him we clearly cannot continue on this quest, unless we find and force that fool, Tharkun, to take his burglar back from whence he came. I shant risk so many lives for his entertainment or out of pity for a hobbit child. I should have known better than to listen to the foolish emotions of the company-"

"Now listen here-"

Bombur had tried to lead Bilbo away, offering him food that he knew he wouldn't be able to stomach it. He couldn't make out the rest of the words with the company working to encase him and drown out Thorin and Balin's argument with forced chatter but Bilbo knew. As soon as Gandalf returned, he was to be left behind and forced to the lonely Shire where the only person he ever interacted with was old Hamfast.

"I can't bare it, " he suddenly cried as he turned to get his things; he wasn't sure how he'd scale the mountain or which way was back to Rivendell but he couldn't just sit here, listening to his family...no, listening to the dwarves who only pitied him, never saw him as family-

The floor crumbled beneath his feet.

\----

Bilbo had been running on empty, on pure terror and pain since he'd woken to a wide eyed, skeleton like creature looking him over in hunger. He'd waved sting in a long arch and the thing had jumped away, mumbling about "rude foods" and "preciouses" and with the ache in his back and head, Bilbo could barely concentrate. All he knew was that the goblins had the company, that he had fallen to the depths of the mountain and now he was to be the meal of an insane creature.

But then, something glinted in his peripheral. Something was on the ground (a ring?) and unconsciously, he reached for it.

\---

"We have to go back!" Ori yelled, pulling at his hair, " H-he could have survived the fall. He could be lookin' for us!"

"They won't be expecting it, " Kili agrees, " Who escapes and comes back? "

"Yes, Bilbo could be-"

"Gone. The hobbit is dead." Thorin interrupts darkly, " We all knew the possibility was there. Did you all really believe it could end any other way, taking an inexperienced child and dragging him through orc and goblin infested land?"

The company was stunned into silence by the harshness of their leader, Dori wrapping his arms around a distraught Ori and then, to the thief's surprise, pulling Nori into the embrace. Bofur removed his hat, hanging his head in sorrow as Bifur wrung his hands, lip quivering. Bombur just looked at Thorin as if he was a stranger, but this didn't discourage the king from rubbing salt into the wound.

" We must continue on. With no kin, we need not worry of alerting the Shire. Because of the paths we took, we're behind schedule. But if we travel in darkness-"

"Can't we a moment to think?! " Dwalin exclaimed, startling the group; Balin reached to comfort his brother but was shrugged off.

Thorin swallowed thickly, " We...we cannot. We can mourn at the home of Gandalf's friend. The quest-"

"Is this stupid quest all you can see!?" Fili snapped, " For Mahal's sake, Uncle! The hobbit has died!"

Thorin swayed slightly, gritting his teeth as he watched his heir clutch his brother, both of his nephews clearly beside themselves. He struggled for words because he too felt the loss of the child burglar but what did they expect of him? To bawl? To express the deep regret he felt for treating Bilbo they way he did? The self hatred for dragging him on this quest which led to his untimely death? Hands trembling, he feared facing the emotions that were already churning in his guts; he was almost thankful when the wizard drew their attention to the howls coming from the west.

"They've found us, " Gandalf breathed.

\---

Out of thin air it seemed, a tiny hobbit appeared, driving his sword into the throat of the warg salivating over their leader. Standing over Thorin in clear challenge to the rest of the orc party, Bilbo looked worse for wear but no less determined; the company felt their morale return and they quickly rushed to help.

\---

  
"You foolish, child. To risk your life for us, for the likes of me-" Bilbo released a sob, afraid of the king's wrath but instead of being struck, he was pulled into a tight hug. Eyes wide, the dwarf hushed him and pushed the hobbit's face into the fur lining his coat. Kneeling in order to embrace him, Thorin finally pulled away in order to survey the tiny form for injury. Bruises and scraps caught his eye but Bilbo didn't appear to be in pain, " I...I am unworthy of your bravery. I have always been the first to doubt you despite how little you have given to cause such doubt."

"I would have doubted me too-"

Standing up, Thorin's eyes were soft and apologetic, " All the more reason. You are far more loyal than I deserve. I have burdened you with so much, and you have shouldered it better than any grown dwarrow could. You have done your people proud, your family as well. You have made me, the company proud, little one. We owe you more than any of us are capable of offering."

"I couldn't let them hurt you. Y-you're my fami- my friends." Bilbo stumbled over his words but to his surprise, he was corrected.

"Now laddie, I'd say you're family now!" Bofur hollered, " Reckon you've got a dozen uncles and cousins to call your own, if ye don't mind calling some scruffy old dwarrow kin!"

"Little hobbit cousin!" Kili exclaimed, then cheered a little quieter after Fili nudged him, " I'm not the youngest anymore!"

Ori stepped forward, looking nervous, " I w-would be honored, Bilbo, to call you cousin."

Dori and Nori agreed as well. Balin offered a gentle smile while Dwalin nodded his head, a great gesture coming from the stoic warrior. Bombur looked like he may cry and Bofur, looking pleased with himself, stood beside Bifur as he signed as quickly as was possible in joy. Oin winked at him when Gloin, smirking, moved forward to quickly ruffle the hobbit's golden locks. Even Thorin who placed a heavy hand on the hobbit's shoulder offered his agreement with a tired smile. And for the first time since he lost his parents and brother and Bag End, Bilbo felt complete, like an empty place in his chest had been packed full.

\---

It takes him over a week to find the dungeons. The first dwarf he finds is Bifur, who sticks his arms through the bars to rub his back as he sobs in relief. The fight with the spiders was a hideous blur of fear and panic, but the corridors of Mirkwood...he was bone tired and so, so hungry.

"I-I have to find the others, f-find Thorin, " he sniffles, " We gotta get out of here, Bifur. I have to get everyone free!"

The dwarf's eyes are sad as he pats him a few more times, gently like it pains him to pull away, and then lets him go. The next dwarf he finds is Oin who orders him to sit and eat the bread he saved from the meal the elves delivered. Then, he finds Nori who asks him to send a message to his brothers, Dwalin who promises to stand watch as Bilbo takes a nap, Balin who looks worried but doesn't say much, Kili who talks his ear off about a female elf who may help them, Dori who fusses over him and sends a message back to his brothers, Fili who encourages him to find Thorin, Bombur who makes him drink all the water he's been given by the "treeshaggers", Ori who cries and begs him not to leave so soon, Gloin who pats his head sadly, and lastly Bofur who nearly brings the elf guards with his happy shouts. It takes him another week to find Thorin and much like Bifur, their leader holds him through the bars of his cage and shushes him, though he also makes a request.

"Find us a way out, little one. I believe you are the only one who can."

A week later, they're free.

\--

"We do not have much left, " Thorin says evenly, head held high before his eyes drift to the hobbit cradled in Dwalin's arms. Bard says nothing as the dwarves empty their pockets and hand over their coin, " But we promise it all, if you can get us across the water, and access to medical supplies."

"How did your son come to be ill?"

Thorin doesn't correct the Man, " He was chilled by the river. His fever rises still."

Bard's gaze softens despite the vague response and he takes the change without further complaint, his eyes lingering on Bilbo as he speaks of his own children, of his young son. The company listens, listless as their littlest member remains in a fitful sleep brought on by a makeshift tonic. He stays atop deck, posing as Bard's young son suffering from a cold while the rest of them are shown barrels. Soon enough, hidden by fish, they're entering the gates of Laketown.

\----

"Mama," Bilbo pleaded hoarsely as Oin tucked him in, " Mama-"

The healer signed deeply, looking at the bedroom door behind which the company paced, then back to the twin beds on which a feverish dwarf and hobbit lay, as they had been for the last three days. With Kili falling ill as well, he was certainly stretched thin but this was his craft. It was what made him sacrifice a life with a spouse or child like Gloin had, so he could always be where he was needed. And Bilbo and the prince needed him and despite the heartache it caused having to watch them suffer, he wanted to be nowhere else. Brushing, away sweat soaked curls, he hobbled to the nearest chair to sit.

"Hush now, laddie. It's alright. "

Bilbo whimpered, shivering despite the blankets piled on him. At least he was no longer screaming weakly, fighting off some creature that was after his flesh (was it a childlike fear or a memory? They still didn't know how the lad escaped the Misty Mountain or saved them from the spiders). Better yet, he was no longer half lucid and trying to reassure the visiting company that he was going to get better soon, that he was useful enough to not be left. Dwalin had been forced to leave the room to compose himself and Thorin had looked as if he would be sick. He'd kept the company out after that, and kept Kili asleep too to spare them that pain because the truth was...they would have to leave the hobbit. Durin's Day was too close and Oin had already agreed to stay behind with Kili and Bilbo, and Fili who refused to leave his brother and little cousin.

"Please...d'n leave..."

Oin let out a shuddering breath, rubbing at his eyes furiously, " Oh, Bilbo..."

\----

"Pneumonia, " the she-elf says with a frown, " I'm afraid this will not be easy to treat. The apothecary had little to offer before-"

"We know, " Fili snapped, then eased his tone when Kili nudged him weakly; he did owe her his thanks, the blond supposed since his brother was on the mend but to hear such bad news about their littlest company member didn't go well with his diminished patience, " So you can do nothing?"

"I didn't say that," she retorted calmly, " It is not as simple as supplying an antidote, is all I meant. He'll need consistent treatment."

"Oin's been offering treatment, " Bofur argued, " Never left the lad's side."

Tauriel laid a hand on Bilbo's forehead, " That is likely why he's lasted so long. If we can-"

They're cut off by what feels like an earthquake, a decent tremor that has them gripping onto the kitchen table that Kili was spread out on moments before. Despite the late hour, suddenly there is an orange glow shining through the windows and when the shaking pauses, they can smell fire. When a second tremor occurs, Fili dives forward to stabilize Oin who has Bilbo cradled in his arms. With a single hand on each, Tauriel keeps Kili and Bofur upright but then the shouts come, a distant cacophony of screams before one word stands out,

"Dragon!"

\---

"Spit it out, that's it, " Bofur mumbles, tipping his hat so it doesn't quite cover Bilbo's face as he coughs up yet another mouthful of phlegm, " You're alright. "

Bilbo sways, leaning back against the dwarf's chest, " Thorin?"

"We'll see uncle soon, " Kili offered as he made to shoulder his pack again; he still had a limp but he'd made quite a bit of progress since the Smaug attack. Behind them the survivors of Laketown could be seen trailing, having no choice but to head towards Dale as the chill of winter was already in the air. Their group of six led the way but they were moving slow, especially with Oin's shoulder injury and the burns Tauriel had sustained in their escape.

No one dared voice their fear that all that would be waiting for them would be an empty mountain hold and nine piles of ash. Standing, they soon continued on their way until night had nearly fallen. They had nothing to fear on the barren plain and while the humans had settled down to camp some ways back, the six pressed on until they were nearly at the gate. When they were right upon it, Oin paused before the rubble that stood around the gaping, pitch black entrance. Confused, they turned to look at him but it was Tauriel who announced it with her superior senses.

"They've lit the forges."

"You mean they live?" Kili breathed; the air smelled like...home.

"Bombur! Bifur!" With Bilbo on his back, Bofur charged into the mountain, leaving the others to chase after him. They didn't notice that Tauriel stood back, watching until Kili was gone from her sight; then, she turned and fled.

"Bombur! Bifur!"

The two dwarves in question turn, listening for the echoing cry again, just to confirm they're not imagining it. When they hear it again, this time Oin and Fili calling out to their kin aswell, the company all but drop their handfuls of gold and head to the entrance of the treasury.

"Have you given up on the stone so soon?"

Thorin's sneer gives them pause but not for long when Dwalin, with a huff, stomps into the dark hall without comment, followed by an irritated Gloin, the silent brother's Ri, and an excited Bifur. Bombur hesitates at the king's tone, fiddling with his beard before something hardens in his eyes and he sprints out of sight, leaving just Balin and Thorin.

"Thorin, " the older dwarf begins but the king scoffs and turns away.

"Make sure they all report here when they're done."

The older dwarf sighs but does as he's told, fearing both what will happen when they do find the Arkenstone, and what will happen if they don't.

\---

"I fear the cold of the mountain is making him worse, " Oin finally says, seated in the corner with his brother; Bilbo is settled between them, taking in loud, whistling inhales.

"Perhaps we should head to the Iron Hills, " Dori suggests, heaving a treasure chest out of a pile and nearly causing an avalanche of coin.

"Watch it!" Nori snaps before offering, " It'd be wise. Get us all patched up, put the little one in a real bed, resupply."

Thorin grits his teeth, " The stone first. You're wasting time with your chit chat-"

"It's not like it's going to walk out on its own. We don't need to rush, " Kili grumbled, rubbing his aching thigh.

Ori left his own patch of treasure and slumped next to Gloin, exhausted from digging all day and sealing entrances this morning, " Reckon the Ironhill dwarves would spare some tools. Digging by hand is horrible!"

" Are you fools!? We had to seal the mountain for this very reason; to prevent anyone but this company from having the chance to make off with the stone. No, it must be us. Stand up this instant and dig. Hobbit, even you can-"

"You must be mad-" Nori exclaimed.

"Thorin-" Balin gasped, stepping in Thorin's path as the king made as if he were going to grab the terrified Bilbo.

"The stone-"

"Nevermind the stone!" Fili suddenly bellows, stunning the company and finally managing to stop Thorin, " That's all you think about, that blasted stone! What of the people of Laketown?! They're freezing in Dale while we hoard fuel. What of food and blankets and medicine? Our rations are gone and winter is upon us! What of Bilbo and Kili and Oin? They're injured and you expect them to dig for hours, and seal doors from some invisible enemy after your precious rock? Uncle, how can you call yourself king-"

The golden haired prince landed hard on his right hip, coin flying as he was hit. The blow left the left side of his face red as it quickly started to swell, a scratch just under his eye from Thorin's ring. Standing over his nephew with shadowed eyes, Thorin took a step forward to grab Fili by his hair before he suddenly unsheathed Orcist. Balin rushed forward as did Dwalin, but neither touched him. Kili, however, launched himself at his uncle's back as the company broke out in shouts, only to be thrown off with ease. Ori helped the shaky Kili up, keeping him from jumping at the unstable king again. Thorin didn't release Fili but he didn't make another move, tense as he eyed the company. Nori suddenly had knives in each hand and Dori was standing up straighter; even Gloin was getting to his feet with a dangerous frown.

"Thorin, stand down, " Balin advised.

"You dare order the king, " Thorin laughed, Fili moaning as the hand in his hair tightened, " You all turn against me, for this pathetic dwarfling who doesn't know his place-"

"You're mad." Bombur whispers in horror, Bifur letting out a spitting curse as he kicks a trunk of treasure that slides down a hill and slams into Thorin's knees; suddenly, everyone is a flurry of motion. Dwalin swings his axe, disarming Orcist but Thorin doesn't release the prince. Kili yelps when Fili is jerked hard in the chaos but then Dori and Gloin have each of Thorin's arms, pinning them to his side. A wad of blond hair is still stuck between the now screaming king's fingers but Fili is free, and safely tucked behind Balin. Thorin yells threats in Westron, then Khuzdul, but then his words blend together into nonsense as he is dragged off, as far away from the glinting treasure as he can be. The company is left shaken and unsure of what to do, Kili's sobbing and Bilbo's uneasy breathing fills the air as he clings to the two princes. They can still hear the crazed shouts of the king.

"It's alright, brother, " Fili offers, though his eyes are glistening.

"It's not, it's really not. " Kili replies.

"We'll see if he's better in the morning, " Balin says at last, exhausted though he stoops to pick up Bilbo with a sad smile, " Some dinner and rest will do us good, right, lad?"

Bilbo nods weakly, resting his head on Balin's shoulder as he coughs; no one seems to notice when the white haired dwarf tucks something into the hobbit's oversized coat, simply following the two as they all head out of the treasury and away from the lure of the hoard. It's gone quiet they note when they're all out into the hall and with a dark look, Dwalin gives the order,

"Seal the treasury. Tomorrow, we speak with the men in Dale."

\----

Fili jerks when a small hand combs through his hair, turning to find Bilbo looking at him guiltily. Chuckling forcefully, the prince faces him, "Did Oin not send you to bed hours ago? Such a sneaky hobbit!"

Bilbo doesn't smile, instead shuffling his feet before finally speaking his mind hoarsely when Fili encourages him to sit (versus fall over in exhaustion), "I'm sorry."

The blond curls an arm around the hobbit, defenses lowering the second he hears the labored breaths; he wants to make a joke, ask if Bilbo's sorry about how ridiculous Fili looks with his bald spot but he can sense that it won't work out. So, mature older cousin it is, " Why, little one?"

"Not digging, " Bilbo wheezes, "If we found the stone, maybe-"

"...I don't think it would have mattered, " Something clenches painfully in his chest as Fili carefully speaks, catching sight of Kili to his left. He likely just finished dinner and was about to retire to the bedroll he'd placed beside his brother's, " Uncle is sick, Bilbo, and it's because of the stone. It is a sickness that has plagued the Durin line for a long time. Perhaps, if we were older, it would be Kili and I acting like..."

"A monster," Bilbo coughed for a long while. By this time, Kili had settled beside them and was rubbing the hobbit's back worriedly as the eldest of the three faces away from them.

"Yeah, " Fili says at last as a tear slides down his face and into his beard, " A monster."

\---

Thorin spent many hours, days he thinks though there is no way to tell, pacing the chamber he's trapped in. He tested the door and it's unlocked yet...he doesn't want to leave it, doesn't want to take one step out because he knows that even if he heads out with intent to find the company, he'll wind up at the treasury. And as much as he wants the stone, can feel it pulling under his skin and urging him to tear the mountain apart in search for it...a lock of golden hair keeps him from leaving.

So, he paces like lion in a cage, stomach gurgling and head aching with thirst. When he rests, its only to wake within the hour from dreams of dragon fire, his grandfather, and rooms of endless treasure. Then, like a light at the end of the tunnel, a note slips under the door.

\---

"What are you doing?"

They turn to see a disarmed Thorin watching them as they suit up in dusty armor and test out the selection offered in the armory. Silence continues for some time; all of them look distrustful and grim. Even with elven and human allies, this battle with the Orcs will not be a small feat. And though they haven't seen hide or hair of their crazed leader in three days, meaning no further outbursts have occurred nor have orders been given in regards to the stone, it's still not clear how they should act around him. The king has been kept in the know about what they've done, what they've been told, what they must prepare for via words spoken to a closed chamber door; he should already know they are preparing for battle. Still, Thorin hadn't said a word to them since they dragged him kicking and screaming from the treasury, since they placed him in the servant's chamber that became his sick bay. Perhaps he asked in earnest, not having heard them through the stone door, but still Thorin didn't receive an answer, at least, not to the question he asked.

"Fili took Bilbo to the elven healers, " Ori hisses.

"That wizard ain't too happy about the state of his burgular. He's been meeting with Balin, that treeshaggin' king, and the human King, " Gloin snarls, "No word from the Iron Hills-"

"My nephews-"

"Can you call them kin?" Dori intercepts gruffly, slipping on thick gloves with brass knuckles, " After treatin' them in such a way?"

Thorin falls silent and the company goes back to suiting up, Dwalin making a show of selecting a rather large mace and then giving it a test swing. Finally, a good twenty minutes later, they're ready to leave and as they brush past Thorin none too gently, they hear the whispered question.

"Did you find the stone?"

Bifur scoffs in disbelief, Nori looking as if he's seconds from assaulting the royal dwarf. Bofur looks equally enraged and Ori is sputtering, Bombur's grip on his flail tightening. Thorin's chagrined expression doesn't fade, even when Dwalin approaches with his teeth bared. But then they all freeze when the hear the king's whisper.

"Please...destroy it."

\----

"Hello there."

Bilbo looks up at the pale haired king with mistrust, recalling the time spent trying to find the company and then planning an escape from the dark, elven dungeons. He recalled the conversations he overheard, the insults directed at his mismatched family and he couldn't bring himself to believe that the elf was as compassionate as his current demeanor made him seem. But then Gandalf was pushing him closer and he was being scooped him, carried gently by Thrandruil towards the cot another elf was settling up in the corner. Startled by the turn of events, Bilbo erupted into a coughing fit that left him seeing spots and his whole body ached worse in spite of the hand gently rubbing his back.

"Oh dear, that is quite a cough."

Tears filled Bilbo's eyes at the coo despite the slight indignation (he was not young enough to be cooed at!) before he was being set down and tucked beneath a thick, soft blanket.

"We're going to make you feel better. Arolin is very skilled. She can cure any illness, body or mind."

"Any?" Bilbo can't help but wheeze, hand slipping into his coat where the Arkenstone was tucked from sight; it was cold against his flesh no matter how long it sat with him and heavy, bigger than his fist though smaller than his head. Balin, the night they locked Thorin away, had told him to keep it hidden, and as far away from their leader as possible. And after his talk with Fili about the nature of Thorin's illness...perhaps, the elven healer could help Thorin even if they did pledge alliance to Thranduil. If he showed them the stone, maybe they could help figure out why it affected Thorin in such a way.

"Hm, does something else trouble you, little one?" Thranduil caresses Bilbo's matted curls, tilting his head so he can look into feverish eyes. The child was obviously tired but he was also so very cautious, behaving more like a prisoner than anything; it was enough to enrage the king, knowing the dwarven company had transformed what had likely been a happy fauntling into this shadow of a creature. But his mental tirade ended quickly when suddenly, the hobbit addressed his healer.

"Can you...cure something called dragon sickness?" Bilbo stumbled over his words because he had only heard the term in whispers but he was certain that was what they said Thorin had. Gandalf, who he had forgotten was still in the tent, stood quickly from the chair he'd settled in.

"So Thorin has fallen to Durin's plight. "

"The princes claimed he was overtaxed by the dragon despite Bard being the one who slayed him, " Thranduil's gaze is cool as he thinks about the two dwarflings who were likely still speaking with said human, but he still manages to look kind when he addresses Bilbo, " There is no cure for such a thing, I'm afraid. Unless..."

"Unless..." Bilbo shivers painfully, waiting for the king to continue; this Arolin character has remained silent and the child nearly regrets speaking until-

"The stone, the one found deep within the mountain that Thror foolishly placed upon the throne... It always shone with a malicious light, regardless of its beauty. If Thorin finds it, he will be lost forever. If it is destroyed, perhaps-"

Bilbo struggles with his coat, at last holding out the stone as he starts to cough again; now more than ever he wants it gone so everything can go back to the way it was. Arolin, distant before, tries to sooth him and places the blanket back over him but he can't stop coughing, the fit taking hold. Thranduil's eyes are wide as he catches the stone that falls out of Bilbo's grip, it reflecting in his eyes as Gandalf mumbles under his breath in surprise. Please, Bilbo wants to say as he struggles to breathe, please help Thorin; in the end, he can't seem to catch his breath. The darkness grows around his vision and he's dizzy and suddenly worried that in the darkness will be Gollum or spiders or worse.

\---

"I doubt anyone would recognize him as the hobbit child reported missing from the Shire," Thrandruil says with some amusement as he presses his palm into the unconscious and rail-thin chest; the king was proud to note that the whistling breaths were quieter now that one of his own had given the child a sleep tonic and rubbed a sharp smelling salve onto his throat and collarbone, " Have you stone headed dwarves been caring for him at all?"

Fili glared, " Our healer did all he could but after the dragon-"

"Ah yes, the dragon that your uncle awoke."

The princes didn't know what to say to that so the elf king went back to his ministrations, muttering that the battlefield was the last place a juvenile hobbit should be. The wizard and two dwarves hovering in the corner of the room couldn't help but agree. Finally, Thranduil stood and made for the flap of the tent; however, he paused to deliver one final jibe.

"It is unfortunate that your king is in such a state that he must send so many, even a child, in his place, " Seeing Bilbo now and knowing he is the invisible figure who helped Thorin Oakenshield and his dwarves' escape from the dungeons has left Thranduil with mixed emotions, especially after the plea about curing dragon sickness, " To rest on your laurels when a war is upon you-"

"He's not just sitting complacent, elf, " Kili snapped, " He is.. doing his best to recover. So he can fight alongside us!"

"Given how long his recovery is taking, perhaps I have given your hobbit false hope. " At the confused look, the pale haired king chuckled obnoxiously, " While I admitted it was out of our expertise, I did say that your uncle may recover from madness if the stone is destroyed. But even then, your uncle must have the will to overcome."

"Bilbo must have misunderstood, " Fili began sharply after a long moment but he was interrupted by a disbelieving snort; not sure how to work their way out of this (or how to digest this information about the possible cure to Thorin's illness) and with no help from the observing Gandalf, the princes startled at the sudden topic change; Thranduil's voice was as cool as ever, "I also recommend you not send the little one to his home in the west too soon, lest you undo all my healer's work. I would be happy to take him into my care. He'll recover quickly among my people-"

"There is no way in we'll let some-" Kili winces when Fili nudges him into silence; they can't bite the hand that feeds them so to speak. Still, his tone is less than polite, leaving no argument, when he finally offers his gratitude.

"Thank you...for treating him. But, Bilbo will be remaining with us."

Wordlessly, the tent flap flutters behind Thrandruil with unnecessary flourish and reluctantly, the two princes realize that they must leave as well, no matter how much it bothers them leaving Bilbo with the elves. Casting looks at the small figure on the bed, they can't deny that it's crucial to talk to Balin about what Bilbo had unknowingly revealed, and check up on the company (Thorin) inside the mountain. Shoving aside the tent flap as the full reality of the situation hit them, they leave with bellies full of worry and doubt. After all, Thror had been unable to escape the stone's hold. Why would Thorin, the last person they would have expected to give into the sickness, be any different? What could set him apart, shift the tides so that their stubborn uncle could successfully overcome the illness of the mind? They could think of nothing...and neither could a certain wizard.

Alone now in the healer's tent, Gandalf moved to sit, worry reflecting in his eyes as he looked upon the child whose fate he had helped guide. His faith had not been in vain; Smaug was gone and Erebor, given they succeeded in fighting the Orcs, would restore power to the east. But whether Thorin would hold that seat of power, Gandalf could not say. And whether Bilbo would find happiness in the east or just more fodder for his nightmares when he returned to the lonely Shire, he did not know. But the slight glimmer of hope in the darkness that was Bilbo Baggin's fate, the possibility for happiness no matter how brief for the hobbit child, was what the wizard clung to.

He doubted he could live with himself otherwise.

\----

_Once there was a mean old hobbit who lived on the edge of the Shire. He never had afternoon tea with his neighbors, never left pastries for the fauntlings, and believe it or not, never bid anyone a "good morning". Now some would say he was improper but the truth was...he was sick. Just like his father and grandfather before him, he had inherited a sickness in the form of a small, golden ring that made him mean and cruel. But he was not mean and cruel. In fact, deep down he was a respectable and fine hobbit but the sickness made him do things that he wouldn't have done if he had been himself._

_You see, this sickness wasn't something he could simply fight, and he just kept getting worse. Soon, everyone saw him as a monster, even the mean old hobbit himself, and the hobbit he used to be was forgotten. He was just the monster that everyone avoided until...a young hobbit lass set up a stall at market. She had the brightest, most golden curls and sold the biggest, brightest flowers and at the end of the day she always gave her left over cuttings away, just like her uncle used to. One day, she bravely offered one to the mean old hobbit. Everyone in the market was stunned, especially the mean old hobbit. He threw the beautiful flower to the ground and stomped it. The hobbit lass was upset of course, but the next time he came to market...she gave him another flower._

_Every time he saw her, she had a flower for him, each more beautiful than the last. Finally, he demanded to know why she kept giving him flowers._

_"Because, " she explained, " Beneath the sickness, you're still my dear, respectable uncle. "_

_The hobbit was stunned; had he truly been so ill that he had not recognized his niece from the nearby hills that he had bounced on his knee and baked apple tarts for? That day, he kept the purple hyacinth and brought it home. For days he tossed and turned in his bed, paced his wonderfully furnished home, until finally, he had sweated out the worst of the sickness. He realized then how empty his smial was, and how barren his garden had become, and with a cry he cast off the ring. Not even watching where it fell, he headed to market where the shopkeepers were just about ready to head home. But there, her golden curls braided, was his niece who he wrapped in the tightest hug, to the surprise of all the other hobbits. The next week, he came to market to see his niece with a smile and greeted everyone he met with a bright, proper "good morning!". The ring had vanished and took with it the curse. To be sure, they lived happily._

At the bottom of the handwritten note that Thorin gripped so tight, beneath the carefully crafted children's tale, was the drawing of a cluster of star shaped flowers.

He read the note over and over, comprehension failing him as the lump in his throat grew. What was the meaning of this? What was the purpose behind delivering this story, written in a youthful scrawl in oversized, looping Westron? A cruel whisper urged him to ignore the unknown emotion churning in his guts, to tear up the note and finally leave his pathetic isolation and claim what was rightfully his. But the note. The story and Bilbo's drawing...he snarled, flinging the note aside as his head began to pound. He tried to distance himself from the piece of scrap paper but it didn't help. The headache grew worse as the whispers turned to screaming. The stone! Get the stone! It was like daggers laced with acid, piercing him again and again but then he heard it, an echo above the screams and the soft locks in his fingers, though he didn't recall reaching into his pocket for them. Paper crinkled in his other hand, the note that he had thought he had abandoned once more trying to pull him from the madness-

**Because beneath the sickness-**

\----"Uncle, you have to believe it wasn't me. Fili was the one who dared me to climb the statue-" Kili shouted, hair mussed and eyes wide with guilt; Fili shoves him aside with a scowl but just as much guilt, " Uncle, what ever Kee has told you, it's a down right fib!"----

\----" Brother, reckon we did ourselves in?" Dwalin giggles, stumbling as he tries to keep an equally intoxicated Thorin upright; his eyes are glittering with mischief. Thorin slurs something reassuring in response, something about the the drinking contest being a matter of pride, of preserving their honor as warriors. Still, when they push open the door to Thorin's sleeping chambers to finding a scowling Balin----  
  
\----" Foolish brother, " she hits him hard but luckily with the blunt end of her sword, her eyes misty but he notes with relief that her smile is just as intimidating as its always been; the beads in his sister's beard catch in the early morning light as she darts forward to pull him and her sons into one last hug before they leave the Blue Mountain, " I want you all back hale and whole, alright? All of you!"----  
  
**You're still-**  
  
\----"Cousin, what's what now?" Oin squints at Gloin who rolls his eyes, gesturing at Thorin as he shouts loud enough for his brother to hear, " By Mahal, why have the horn if ya never use it? We're being 'cruited to slay the dragon and reclaim the Lonely Mountain!"  
  
"Fix a wagon and an old fountain, " Oin hums thoughtfully as Thorin rubs tiredly at his eyes, "Why, neither of our crafts are alongside that sorta thing-"  
  
"Oi, I said dragon, ya old loon! We're gonna slay the bastard and return home at last. By Mahal, to call the mountain home again...Why, wait until my boy Gimli hears-"  
  
Oin finally smiles at Thorin, "Why didn't ya say, lad! Aye, 'bout time we did somethin' about that overgrown lizard-"-----  
  
\----"Cousin, " Bofur begins with a disbelieving laugh, and Thorin takes a moment to appreciate the affectionate term despite their lack of a blood connection. Bombur's ladle falls into the soup he's making for dinner with a dramatic plop, his youngest daughter gurgling from where she sits in Thorin's lap. Bifur, juggling Bombur's older boys who are slapping at each other and knocking their wooden action figures together in what is likely an epic battle of good and evil, stares at Thorin with his mouth agape. Finally, Bofur finds the strength to continue, still sounding friendly but stunned, " Ya want a toymaker, a cook, and a miner to join ya on a guest? "  
  
"Yes, I can think of none other than yourselves, " Thorin says proudly, "who welcomed us when we lost our home in the east, to join me on this mission."  
  
Bifur in a conspiratorial grumble, addressed his cousins in snarky Khuzdul,  <<<" If he can think'a no others, we're in a world'a trouble." >>\--  
  
\----"Cousin, I'd strangle you if there were no witnesses!" Thorin looks up and while he doesn't let it show, he's a little intimidated by the scowling weaver, " To recruit my brothers, my little Ori who's scantly a decade into adulthood! This is such a Nori-like thing to do and I'd likely thank you for taking the miscreant off my hands. He's always lacked the sense to pour piss out of a boot, always chasing glory and danger and giving me grey hair, you know, but Ori!? Thorin Oakenshield, I believed you to know better!"  
  
Thorin can't get a word in edge wise, as is the usual case with the motherhen of a dwarf; he knew this was coming, however, when Ori, usually so timid, volunteered his service when Thorin was discussing Nori's skills as a thief yesterday evening, he'd been stunned. He hadn't even heard the younger Ri approach their table as they sat in the corner of the dwarven inn but he was not so foolish then, as he wasn't now, to deny the offer of another skilled set of hands on the nearly impossible quest for Erebor. He understand Dori's anger but what he does not understand is the dwarf's next few words.  
  
"I have no choice, obviously. Who else will keep my foolish brothers hale and whole? Likely, Dis will appreciate my volunteership as I can also use my good sense to keep you and the lot in line. Oh Mahal, the paths we're made to choose. Alright, alright. My hands are tied. There's nothing to be done so just give me the bloody contract and let's drink a cuppa to settle it." -----

\---- "Mffph...uncle? " It's shocking even though Bilbo's mumble is barely audible over the ruckus going on at Beorn's dining table, the company rejoicing about the food, the warmth, and of course the victory of making it this far. When a head had thumped into his shoulder earlier, disrupting him from his half eaten honeycomb, he realized that their little burglar was struggling to stay awake. Looking around and believing his departure to be unnoticed, Thorin scooped the hobbit up with the intent to deliver him unto his bed of hay. But then, the startling mumble. The word could have been lost, if one dwarf had better timed their shout or obnoxious laugh but as it was, it was nearly deafening. Thorin's heart swelled with joy and regret and he waited to hear more from the hobbit, but to his relief (and disappointment) he was already fast asleep. ----  
  
The image of a flower was burned into his mind, and for a single moment it replaced the image of the stone. That single lapse was all it took and like he was rising above freezing water, once again escaping a barrel and heading to shore, his mind focused on one thing: finding the hobbit, and making things right.  
  
\---  
  
He slashes, his thin arms weak and jarring painfully when he connects with the solid bodies of the spiders. He's gasping and sobbing as he dives and stabs and jabs because they're not moving- his family is so still within the tight, white spider's silk and there are just too many of them! But then the last corpse falls, the foul smelling guts littering the ground of Mirkwood. He kneels to cut open the sacks, clawing at the fibers until he can make out the armor and robes of a dwarf before suddenly there is an indignant screech behind him.  
  
" What a tricky thing to take precious! A tricky, stupid morsel, he is. But he will pay, yes, yes, precious. Pay for lying, pay for stealing, pay in flesh!"  
  
He wakes with a cough, chest heaving as he struggles to pull air into his congested lungs. Even with the salve helping to clear his airways its hard and it takes a long time for him to recover, to realize he's in an elven tent, not the forest and not the goblin caves. He's tired still, and the light of either sunrise or sunset makes the tent glow a tangerine orange; he doesn't think he'll be able to sleep anytime soon, not with his dreams and fears keeping him up. He thinks, for the first time since he left, about being able to crawl into Hamfast's lap and telling him his troubles. The old hobbit had always stumbled over advice, not really the affectionate type but he'd listen. And what Bilbo wouldn't give for someone to listen, and also for the days when his fears and worries didn't get stuck behind his teeth because of their insignificance in comparison to the Orcs, the dragon, the Arkenstone...  
  
"The war is over little one, " Arolin says when he's calm, dabbing at his forehead with a smooth cloth, " Your dwarves succeeded."  
  
Bilbo closes his eyes, and behind his eyelids, it doesn't seem like the battle is yet finished. But then he startles out of such dark thoughts (perhaps he had fallen a sleep for the only light now is a candle) when a new hand, calloused with thick fingers, brushes through his hair. He looks into warm blue eyes and while Thorin is bruised and battered, and clearly exhausted, he is smiling with clarity and so much care.

"You're alright. Shhhh, just rest, little nephew. You've done more than enough for one lifetime."  
  
Bilbo's eyes water until tears are trailing down his cheeks and into the curls just before his ears, Thorin humming to him a soothing melody as he caresses along his hairline. It's all Bilbo's ever wanted and craved since his parents and brother passed away, something he thought too much a burden to seek until a wizard came with an adventure for his mother. It seems so cruel that he had to go so far, suffer so much in order to escape the loneliness that had plagued him in the Shire, for he was definitely no longer lonely, but at a cost. The ache in his heart remained even with the affection he received from the King Under the Mountain, and the rest of the company who eventually trails in and surrounds him. But perhaps it is not so hopeless for if he has family by his side, perhaps they will listen and hold him when the battle in his heart becomes too much, soothing the new ache and fears with time.  
  
Perhaps...there is hope.  
\----  
  
Gandalf's soul feels lighter the moment the ring and the stone are deposited into the depths of the mountain of Doom, disappearing for good in the molten lava. He can feel the difference in the air soon after, the balance of Middle Earth itself shifting in response to what he's done. Sauron had been cut off at the pass with the One Ring destroyed and really, Gandalf didn't understand why fate placed it in the hands of one little hobbit in the first place.  
  
What he did know was that his life mission had stirred within him so much shame, so much weariness, for he was the reason that a nineteen year old hobbit bore the haunted look of a refugee, of a warrior pulled from the trenches filled with his kin...Bilbo was changed forever and the far too peaceful Shire would never be his again, no matter how the Sacksville-Baggins argued that their young ward (the same one they themselves abandoned) be returned to them to ensure their inheritance and reputation. But not all is lost, he thinks and the voice of his thoughts sounds much like Galadriel, he notes with some amusement.  
  
When he returns to Erebor, robes singed and his gait slow and aged, it is to find Thorin crowned king with a recovering hobbit sitting happily on his shoulders. Dwarves and Man alike make up a crowd in the courtyard of Dale as they look up at the formerly sealed balcony above them; they look at the King, one who nearly brought death to them all, with worship. The company and Bard standing regally behind the royal dwarf as proud restoration plans are bellowed into the post-winter air make the sight even more magnificent, for it all had really turned out alright. Thrandruil, paid his due, had long since retreated though his interest in Erebor remained in the form of trade negotiations and a few elves watched from the sidelines with some admiration on their typically stoic faces. Truly, it was an unbelievable and remarkable sight.  
  
"Long live the King!" Bilbo cries suddenly with a bright smile, and not an ounce of despair which Gandalf had noted so clearly when he'd first left the battle. Some shadows linger of course but it is a great improvement, Gandalf thinks as he notices the loving looks that fall upon the small hobbit. Truly, fate did not take without giving. Turning to go, Gandalf chuckles to himself as he thinks that maybe one Belladonna Took had been right in regards to his reckless, wizardly meddling,  
  
"Bilbo Baggins, lad, you've much joy ahead. And you deserve every bit of it."  
  
END

**Author's Note:**

> http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/702.html?thread=26600638#t26600638


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